Friday
My first day as a "fixer" with my reporter. (A "fixer" is a guy who knows how to get things done and if not, he is a guy who knows a guy...)
Leon Neal – a seasoned photojournalist with Getty Images. I meet him outside the Tel Aviv building where in the underground garage, Gal Hirsch (former IDF general and appointed by the PM to be in charge of the abductees) is meeting, for the first time, with the families of the kidnapped and missing people. I decide not to join even though I want to. I feel that it is not my place… There is a reason that the Temple had holy spots where some were permitted to enter and others not.
Leon gets a tip: the IDF is doing something they have never done before. They are going to allow journalists into the Shura Base. This is where the army has about 25 refrigerated shipping containers, and in each one about 20 murdered Israelis waiting to be identified and released for burial.
I read the briefings and I listen to the Hebrew being spoken among the senior army personnel. The point of this break in tradition is to shock the world. However, in my humble opinion, at the end of the day, I am the only one who is shocked and the world-traveled/seasoned journalists are not.
The IDF spokesperson greets the foreign crews at the entrance. He speaks English, but it is hard to understand for two reasons. First of all, it is a Scottish accent. And secondly, it seems that he is speaking a type of translated English from Hebrew. He tries to convey the importance of the site’s sanctity. He tries to tell them “the ground here is Holy and the people are doing Holy work.” Some things just don’t translate and his words fall on deaf ears. Even the basics of how to talk to a group are lost on him. He has no command, in spite of his two ‘falafel’ rank. He has them standing in the beating sun, as opposed to the nearby shade. The debacle continues on the inside. It is clear that the spokespeople did not clearly communicate the visit with the Rabbinate people, and the Rabbinate people did not tell their crews, or something like that… there is quite a bit of consternation and resentment from many of the Hevre Kadisha (burial society).
As we approach, the truck driver, a guy that plainly was as “Amcha” as you can get, made a spectacle of himself by jumping up and down and shouting from the top of the truck’s cabin that the world should f*ck Hamas etc. (I can understand someone in his position… but is this the face of Israel that the IDF wishes to show? Eventually, someone told him to take a stroll and cool off…)
A member of Knesset shows up. He clearly wants to get in the scene but no one is really interested in him. The crews want to see, and show, gore. They keep getting told about the atrocities. Now they want to see them. But all they see are black body bags.
On a personal level, I feel like I need to be here. I need to feel the pain when I send my boys to war and to tell them to show no mercy. The sheer number of 500 bodies all around me is staggering. The stench forces me to wear two face masks. (What the spokesperson called “bad smell”… really? It is the stench of death.) On one hand, I’m very glad that we kept the kvod ha’metim (honor of the deceased), and did not show more than we did. But on the other hand, on a professional level, I’m a big believer in achieving your goals. If the IDF set a goal to shock the world, than do your homework and shock the world.
In the words of my photojournalist, the entire event was a waste of time. When he covered the Ukrainian conflict, they did open-casket funerals, regardless of the body's condition. That is gruesome. But in these photos and images… all you get are black plastic bags… no shock. No horror. And no proof…
I overhear a Chinese TV crew. They wanted to get the shock and gruesome labor from an officer dealing firsthand with the bodies. The officer says “I can’t talk about it.” The Chinese walk away. That comment just doesn’t make the news. But something in the officer’s body language doesn’t fit with his words. I go over and ask him what he meant… did he mean “I can’t speak about as it is too hard emotionally,” or that he “is not allowed to talk about it.” He says that he is not allowed to say the exact number of casualties that are stacked here… Oy. Lost in simple translation. I go over to the Chinese crew and tell them that the officer would actually really like to share his horror stories, but the interest has already waned and now the Chinese have moved on to something else…. Another bungled attempt.
Come to think of it, the very fact that I was even there is indicative of the balagan (state of chaos). I shouldn’t be there. From the IDF’s perspective, I am a mere taxi driver. My role may be self-identified as civilian miluim, but…
I drop Leon off at the Maxim Hotel. This was Chana's Savta Clair’s favorite hotel in Israel. Leon has chosen it as it should be relatively safe from rockets… it is right across from the US embassy building…
On my way home, as I’m passing Latrun, a rocket hits Rehovot. Leon goes to check it out on his own. Thankfully, no people are injured.
Throughout the day, in between driving, bridging gaps and sirens, I’m on the phone organizing the guard duty people and shifts for the Carlebach minyan. I dub them "The Carlebach Guns.” I also arrange for Hatzalah people to be available as well with their gear and cars.
All the guards and medics are members of our small congregation. Even with our small numbers, we manage to organize one-hour/two-person shifts.
All of the shuls in the neighborhood do the same. Each independently arranges their protection and we bond together for coordination through wonderful Whatsapp.
As opposed to other shuls where there are many native-born Israelis who did army service and have handguns, in our shul, most came to Israel as adults, and besides myself, only one other person has a military background. Nonetheless, the volunteers take their job very seriously and I believe that besides the physical protection provided, it also allows for a sense of psychological ease.
Shabbat
Halacha (Jewish law) holds that one has an obligation to desecrate Shabbat to save a human life, even if there is only a doubt about that human life.
I reflect on how I assisted Leon navigate not just the geography, but the cultural and language barriers as well.
I feel that my role is helping to save Jewish lives, even if it is being done indirectly.
I feel that it is my duty to "work" on Shabbat and escort Leon.
However, these are weighty matters and I consult with our Rabbi Ori (who is also drafted. As a psychologist army officer he is part of the team that governs civilian matters in Jerusalem during times of crisis).
I know that Rav Ori is a methodical and conservative halachik thinker. The immediacy and decisiveness of his answer surprise me. "Absolutely," he says. It is a mitzvah and I must do this on Shabbat.
Later he reflects with me more about his answer. He compares it to the Megillat Esther story. When the king gave the Jews permission to fight their enemies, there was tremendous rejoicing. But the job was too big to accomplish in one day. So the king grants a second day in order to complete the job. (Granted, due to logistics, the decree only applied to the capital, Shushan, but still...) Rav Ori was of the opinion that this is exactly what my role was. Helping the "kings" of the world to reach the decisions that would enable the time frame for Israel to complete the job.
The thought also reminds me of another of Elliot's idioms: "When you have to number your wars, it is NOT a good thing!" Think about it. War is terrible. But if you are forced to go to war, get the job done. The Lebanon War was bad, but the fact that there was a Lebanon 2 is even worse.
In the end, Leon goes to the south where helmets and body armor are a requirement. I do have a helmet (from Yedidya) but the whole country is lacking in body armor. Leon has another driver who has done this sort of thing before, and therefore has his own gear.
I am frustrated. But perhaps just as well. All soldiers, officers and politicians need to rest, or they will cease to function and even worse, make bad decisions and errors.
So thankfully, Shabbat is restful. A blessed respite after an insane week.
Week One of the most recent of the Israeli-Arab wars.
(Note: I do not call this "the 1st week," but rather "week one." This very week we read Genesis. Notably, God numbers the days of creation in sequence: second, third, fourth, etc. But not first. Rather the Torah states "Day One." Commentators explain that although the Torah is read by humans, it was authored by God and from God's perspective. That being the case, at the end of that original day, it wasn't the first, as there was yet to be a second.
So why am I adamant to call this week "Week One?"
Two reasons. First, I have hope. ישועת ה' כהרף עין. God's salvation is at the blink of an eye. There may not be a second week, and therefore, no first.
The other reason is perspective. God's perspective is NOT ours. And, if I had been around to witness Day One, it would not have made any sense. None. But in retrospect, the whole world came together.
I hope, I hope, I hope... I hope that this war will not be called the Simchat Torah War but rather the Genesis War. From To'hu Va'vohu, from utter chaos, God created order and a phenomenal reality. God created order. Humans create chaos. If only God gives us the vision and power to be Genesis-like... to go from this utter chaos and destruction, and finally move on to a new reality where "every person under their vine..." and "the knowledge of God covers the earth..."
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